'I was diagnosed with ADHD in my 30s, now I understand my brain better'

Women are increasingly being diagnosed as neurodivergent later in life, giving them a better understanding of their personal struggles and opening the door to workplace support

Cathy Michael was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) in her late 30s. Photograph Moya Nolan

Cathy Michael was in her late 30s when she learned her mind worked differently from other people’s. The 42-year-old from Monkstown in Dublin had been diagnosed with dyslexia as a child, but it wasn’t until 2021 that a psychologist told her she also had attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).

She had always struggled with executive function, the term used for the mental skills we draw on to achieve our goals, such as planning, prioritising, and self-control.

“I’m great at thinking up new ideas and solutions to problems,” she says. “It’s implementing them that’s difficult. I would often start projects, underestimate how long they would take to finish, and end up leaving them unfinished. I’m terrible at administration and time management. I don’t think I’ve been on time for anything in my life.”

Becoming a mother made things more challenging, and Michael found “trying to balance the demands of day-to-day life with two young boys, now aged six and eight, to be overwhelming”.

Suspecting her neurodivergence might play a role, she started reading more about it. She came across ADHD, recognised its symptoms in herself, and decided to get tested.

Her diagnosis prompted a range of emotions, including “relief at not being alone in my experiences, grief for lost opportunities, unfulfilled potential, self-forgiveness and compassion as I understood it more”.

Cathy Michael: 'I'm sad there are women out there feeling broken and not understanding why.' Picture: Moya Nolan

Counselling psychologist Jessica McKnight is the clinical director of Diverse Minds Practice in Dublin, which specialises in neurodivergent assessments and therapy. She defines neurodiversity as “the natural variation in how brains process information and experience the world”, citing ADHD, autism, dyscalculia, and dyslexia as examples of neurodivergent conditions.

She happens to be neurodivergent, which she only realised recently.

“It took specialising in neurodiversity for me to see the traits in myself,” she says.

McKnight was diagnosed as autistic in 2024, which helped her make sense of her challenges “relating to others and managing change and transitions”.

But it didn’t explain why she felt she went through life “with a sense of impatience, reactivity, and making mistakes from working too quickly” or why she had “constantly racing thoughts and could never relax”. An ADHD diagnosis earlier this year explained that.

Michael and McKnight are examples of a trend: More women are being diagnosed as neurodivergent later in life. Organisations including ADHD Ireland and the autism charity AsIAm have reported a significant rise in women seeking a diagnosis in recent years.

McKnight’s practice has seen that same phenomenon, and adult assessments now make up 30% of its work.

What is driving this trend? McKnight believes increased awareness is a factor.

“It’s not that autism and ADHD rates are suddenly rising,” she says. “What’s changing is our ability to name, understand, and support these experiences. Media coverage has highlighted the many ways neurodivergence can show up, and for those who have long felt different, there can be a sense of recognition.”

It can sometimes be a crisis, like a relationship breakdown or workplace difficulties, that prompts people to seek a diagnosis, or the arrival of perimenopause, which can worsen symptoms, or their own children being diagnosed as neurodivergent.

“A child’s diagnosis can cause parents to reflect on their own experiences as a child,” she says. “Given there is a genetic component in conditions like ADHD and autism, reflecting on family history is sensible.”

Differences in early signs

Another factor is that the criteria for diagnosis used to be based on how neurodivergence manifested in boys. With ADHD — which is still diagnosed in boys aged between eight and 12, at four times the rate it’s diagnosed in girls of the same age — boys tend to be hyperactive and impulsive, while girls are more likely to be inattentive and dismissed as scatty.

In fact, it wasn’t until the late 1990s that ADHD began to be studied in girls, with the first long-term study looking at how it impacted them into adulthood published in 2013.

Girls also have a more internalised presentation of autism. Even though they can struggle just as much with social interactions or external stimuli, they are often more able to mask it.

McKnight certainly was. “I was internally distressed, but because I was nice and quiet, nobody saw it,” she says. 

People saw my success in work or when socialising, but never the effort that went into keeping up that front.

British research published in 2024 https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC11669776/ shows that masking in this way takes a toll, with neurodivergent girls and women having a higher risk of developing anxiety and depression than their neurotypical peers.

Neurodivergent women can also struggle at work, especially if they are undiagnosed. McKnight says the common issues they experience are related to organisation, time management, maintaining focus, and social interactions.

“There can also be feelings of inadequacy, underachievement, and overwhelm,” she says. “Without supportive employers, they can even experience burnout because they have to expend more effort than their neurotypical peers just to meet the same standard, which can be exhausting.”

Michael believes she might have been able to navigate the world of work better if she had been diagnosed earlier. She got a job as a gallery assistant after art college and excelled at some aspects of the role.

“I was good at dealing with people but disastrous when it came to things like following up sales,” she says. “If I’d understood my neurodiversity then, I think I’d have been more open about my skills and shortcomings so that I could have been supported to stay on track.”

Availability of support

It’s only in the past decade that psychologists, psychiatrists and members of the public alike have begun to recognise how neurodivergence can show up in females.

Menopause workplace consultant Catherine O’Keeffe says that the late 30s seem to be the most common age for diagnosis and points out that this only just precedes most women’s perimenopausal stage, which tends to start between the ages of 40 and 44.

Perimenopause can further exacerbate the challenges experienced by neurodiverse women. “In my experience of working with women, I’ve seen how it can put pressure on their psychological symptoms and on their sensitivities,” she says. “Autistic women, for example, may experience unique difficulties with how their sensory processing interacts with shifting levels of hormones. When you factor in that many women haven’t disclosed their diagnosis at work, this can add to the stress these women are under.”

Catherine Hayes, a managing associate at the employment law specialists Lewis Silkin Ireland, points out that Irish disability law stipulates neurodivergent employees (and those who are menopausal) are entitled to such support.

Solicitor Catherine Hayes says employers have a duty to support staff.

“Neurodivergence may be seen as a disability, and employees with disabilities are protected from discrimination in the workplace,” she says.

“Employers also have a duty to take appropriate measures to support them to carry out their role, provided that support doesn’t amount to a disproportionate burden. The financial costs and resources of the employer are taken into account when assessing this.”

Employers’ legal obligations to their employees are one reason why Hayes believes they are now creating more neuro-inclusive workplaces. Another is that they are also “recognising the competitive advantage offered by a neurodivergent workforce, with skills such as careful attention to detail and excellent problem solving”.

Bank of Ireland became more neuro-inclusive in March 2024 when it launched a policy to support its neurodivergent staff.

Eimear Harty, the bank’s head of inclusion and diversity, explains that the process started with consultation: “We got auticon, a company that exclusively hires adults on the autistic spectrum, to advise us. We engaged with advocacy groups, and we asked 16 of our neurodivergent employees to form a focus group.”

Next was raising awareness. Some 65% of Bank of Ireland’s 11,000 employees have now completed training, which covers practical steps they can take to support neurodivergent colleagues, such as using inclusive language and keeping work emails concise.

But what of women, like Michael pre-2021, who don’t realise they are neurodivergent or have yet to receive a diagnosis? The bank recognises this dilemma, which is why it makes its accommodations available to all staff.

“We know there may be colleagues who are unaware they are neurodiverse or who choose not to use labels,” says Harty. “So we work with people on an individual basis to identify what they need to succeed at work.”

Eimear Harty says Bank of Ireland’s neuro-inclusion aims to benefit all staff.

The bank calls on other organisations to follow its lead and has offered to share its policy freely. Harty says that “approximately one in ten adults identifies as neurodivergent and taking steps to understand their experience and bring out their strengths will benefit everyone. It needn’t be expensive. Most accommodations revolve around things like flexibility or communication, which are free or low-cost to implement.”

These days, Michael, as a self-employed director of her family-owned business, is in a position to offer these accommodations to herself. She uses her phone’s timer and reminder functions to help with time management, delegates tasks like tax returns to others, and arranges short check-ins rather than long meetings.

“I understand my neurodiversity now, so I try to work to my strengths and manage my weaknesses,” she says. “There’s a freedom with allowing myself to be who I am.”

McKnight believes it’s worth being diagnosed, even late in life. But she recognises that the process of doing so can be a complicated and expensive one. Typically, a diagnosis is provided by a trained psychologist and costs up to €1,800.

If you have the time and money to overcome these obstacles, a diagnosis can be transformative. “It can bring understanding and feelings of relief, self-compassion and reduced self-criticism,” says McKnight. “And professionally, if your employer appreciates that neurodivergent people can bring creativity, honesty and fresh perspective and supports you accordingly, it can lead to you thriving at work.”

It has certainly made a huge difference for Michael. “I’m so thankful to have been given the chance to understand my brain better,” she says.

“It makes me sad to think there are still women out there feeling broken and not understanding why.”